


Oops

by CasWearsHoodies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Email, Alternate Universe - College/University, Blowjobs, Cas is at least 18 so its not underage, College!AU, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Office Sex, PWP, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Slutty!Cas, Student!Cas, Teacher!Dean, Teacher-Student Relationship, but like nothing rough or anything, dom!Dean, sub!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasWearsHoodies/pseuds/CasWearsHoodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel accidentally sends a raunchy email to his dreamy sculpture instructor, Professor Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oops

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd as always by the lovely [Celia.](http://bambiarafangirl.tumblr.com)
> 
> I wrote this for a Tumblr Destiel Ficlet challenge. (TBH I just really wanted to write something with similar plot to a bad porno). Enjoy! 
> 
> And as always, if you want to send me a prompt, submit it to [my tumblr!](http://cashmoneycas.tumblr.com)

“Gabriel, hurry, Cassie’s gonna be out of the bathroom any second,” Balthazar chuckled over Gabe’s shoulder, trying to keep quiet but failing. He’d taken one too many hits from the joint they were sharing and found himself laughing harder than he meant to.

And as subtle as they thought they were being, Castiel still heard them through his dorm’s bathroom door. He chuckled and shook his head before emerging from the small restroom, “You guys better not have touched my textbooks again. I still can’t get the Sharpie off of my Art History book.”

At the sound of Cas walking into the room he and his dorm mates shared, Gabe and Balthazar hopped away from where they were furiously typing on Cas’ laptop, trying to make themselves look nonchalant. _If they’ve changed all my icons to porn again, I swear…_

Castiel sat down in front of his laptop, feeling relief at seeing his icons left in their normal state. But the relief was short lived as he noticed his email was open in a minimized tab.

He groaned, “What’d you two do?”

His friends snickered as Balthazar passed the joint to Cas, “Lighten up. We were just messing about, we didn’t do anything.”

Cas accepted the blunt, taking a hit before clicking the tab open. There in his email sat a message addressed to his sculpting professor. The exact sculpting professor that he’d been mooning over for the full year and half he’d been a student, Professor Winchester.

How could Castiel help himself though? His professor was the epitome of what Castiel looked for in men. Everyday for the past year and a half, Cas had the pleasure of watching his teacher mould beautiful works of art out of clay and other materials. Professor Winchester didn’t do business casual, opting instead to wear a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt to his classes, and Castiel got the full picture of his professor’s biceps, bulging with the exertion of moulding. He’d caught Castiel staring a few times, but only told him to get back to work before smirking, and if that didn’t turn Cas on more.

Cas read over the email his friends - who knew perfectly well how much Castiel was enamored with his professor - had concocted, thanking whatever god he could name that they didn’t send it. But he had to laugh at the corniness of it all.

Cas chuckled as he read a few parts aloud, “‘You really know how to work that clay?’ I would never say it like that.”

Gabe and Balthazar renewed their laughter.

“Then what would little old Cassie say?” Gabe asked, taking the remainder of the blunt and finishing it off.

Castiel didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep due to finals week approaching or all the weed he and his friends had inhaled, but he decided to humor them and started typing, “Maybe something along the lines of ‘Why mould clay when you can mould me?’”

His rambunctious roommates cackled, edging Castiel on to write more. By the time he was done adding to the letter his friends started, it was one a.m.

“Okay, okay, it’s late and I’ve got a nine o’clock class,” he began, rubbing his eyes. “How do I delete this thing?”

His dorm mates paid him no attention, only giving half-hearted responses over their shoulders before crawling into their own beds. Castiel turned back to his monitor, located the delete button, and went to click it.

 _Went_ being the keyword. As he clicked the little icon, he closed his eyes and yawned, the mouse sliding over with his movement. After his yawn passed, his focus zeroed onto his screen.

_Your email has been sent!_

Wait. What?

Cas sat dumbstruck for a moment, looking at the point where his cursor hovered over Sent instead of Delete. He checked his outbox, and sure enough, the sent email was there, mocking him.

“Oh shit, shit, shit!” Cas exclaimed, searching through the folders, looking for a way to get the message back.

This was all in good fun. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The only reason Castiel even added to the stupid email was to get a few laughs for him and his friends. He didn’t mean to actually send it. It was just a stupid joke. He was so fucked, he was beyond saving.

“What is it?” Gabe mumbled into his pillow, not bothering to lift his head.

“I sent it. Oh my god, I sent it,” Cas blubbered, verging on a full blown panic attack. Professor Winchester was going to kick him out of class for sure. He was going to fail the semester.

Cas' labored breathing must have gotten on Balthazar’s nerves, because he turned over to glare at his panic-stricken friend, “Just tell him that it was an accident and go to bed.”

He breathed deeply for a few moments to center himself, before opening up another Compose Email tab. But what do you say to your professor after that? _Sorry, I’ve been harboring an attraction to you for over a year and in a high state decided to write an email about all the things I want you to do to me?_

After he spent some time thinking on it, he decided to just blame Gabe and Balthazar. It was their fault after all. He’d just tell Professor Winchester that they stole his laptop.

But what Cas failed to notice until then was the notification in his inbox. _Too late,_ he thought. Swallowing his fear, he opened the late night reply from his professor.

_My office. Tomorrow morning._

_-Pr. D. Winchester_

Yep, Castiel was fucked.

\------

Eight a.m., Castiel found himself standing outside of Professor Winchester’s office, fidgeting as he waited for the instructor to arrive. How was he even going to begin to apologize for this one? Sorry I accidentally sexted you through email?

Before he even had time to formulate a good excuse, Castiel saw the teacher in question making his way down the hall to his office, his eyes on Cas. When he was close enough, he gave an easy smile and greeted, “Morning, Castiel. Just let me unlock this.”

He jimmied his door open and ushered the offending student inside, murmuring, “Have a seat,” before setting his belongings behind his desk. Cas thought he was going to sit in his computer chair, but he surprised the student by coming around to lean against the front his desk.

“So about you email,” the professor began. “What a surprise to wake up to in the middle of the night.”

Castiel blushed and began to mumble his formulated apology, “I am incredibly sorry for that, Professor-”

“Call me Dean,” he cut off, smirking at the blush burned onto Cas’ face.

“Dean,” Cas repeated. “My roommates grabbed my laptop when I wasn’t looking and...”

Dean hummed and leaned back against his desk, the long line of his body on display for Castiel. His sentence trailed off and he caught himself mindless staring before snapping out of it and looking pointedly at the ground.

“So,” Dean said. “You didn’t write any of that? I find that hard to believe, Cas.”

His nickname on his teacher’s lips had him barely suppressing a moan. Here he was, trying to apologize to his teacher about being a pervert, and was instead getting half hard in his jeans. It didn’t escape his instructor’s notice. The older man chuckled lightly, waiting for Cas to explain himself.

“W-Well I wrote some of it,” Cas began. “But my friends and I were a little under the influence and messing around. I didn’t mean to send it.”

“You didn’t mean to send it,” Dean stated. “But did you mean it?”

Castiel froze and glanced up to his teacher’s eyes, “Excuse me, Professor?”

Dean stood up straight, directly in front of where Cas seated, “Did you mean it? Do you really want me to, as you said, ‘Bend you over my desk and fuck you in front of the class?’”

Cas exhaled sharply, whimpering as Dean slid a hand into the dark locks on top of his head, “Pro-professor…”

Dean bent down and leveled his face with the flushed student, licking his lips, “Call me Dean, angel. Do you really want me as much as I want you?”

Their faces were centimeters away, and it was too easy for Cas to just lean in and press him lips to Dean’s before pulling away, “Yes.”

Dean chuckled at this, pulling Cas up so they were both standing incredibly close. He breathed in his teacher’s earthy scent, the aromas of paint and clay calming the storm within him. Cas focused on Dean’s face as the instructor murmured, “How about we honor that email and settle for this desk instead?”

Cas groaned low in his throat, something within him cracking. He surged forward, crashing his mouth against the older man’s as he ripped of the flannel he was wearing. With the teacher’s arms exposed, he pulled back and hummed in appreciation, kissing Dean as he rubbed the thick muscles.

Dean took the opportunity to plant lazy kisses and love bites along his student’s neck. Cas groaned and rolled his hips forward. He blushed afterward, worried that he’d embarrassed himself by seeming too eager, but the resulting roll of Dean’s hips assured him that the man was on board.

Cas pulled back from Dean, a flash of confusion crossing his face before he realized Cas’ intent. The student dropped to his knees, pulling Dean’s belt open before even asking permission. Finding his manners, he paused and looked up through his lashes, playing coy, “Is it okay if I do this, _Professor?_ ”

Dean growled and threaded a hand into Cas’ hair, “Fuck yeah, Cas.”

The student went back to his actions, unbuckling Dean’s belt and unzipping his pants. He pulled both garments down, leaving his instructor in nothing but his t-shirt and boxer briefs. Cas leaned forward and licked one long stripe up Dean’s cock through the cotton, reveling in the curse he let out.

He’d wanted this too long to tease, so he pulled down the briefs, the half-hard erection bouncing out of its confines.

And holy shit, his teacher had a huge cock. It was probably a little over average in length, but its impossible girth had Cas’ mouth watering. It was safe to say he had a bit of a size kink, but even this had Cas hesitating.

Dean cleared his throat, drawing Cas’ eyes up to his blushing face, “Are you okay?”

“More than okay,” Cas murmured, wetting his lips before grabbing Dean’s cock. He gave it a few sure tugs as he licked the head, soft groans tumbling from Dean’s mouth. He pulled the whole head into his mouth before sliding down as far as he could. His jaw felt like it was being stretched taut, but the moans coming from the man above him and the hand pulling his hair made it all worth it. He unzipped his jeans and released his own throbbing dick, rubbing the precum around his head.

Castiel then proceeded to give Dean the best blowjob he’d ever given. He pulled out all the stops, massaging his balls and swirling his tongue around the head as he bobbed at a lazy, slow pace.

A pace that was slowly driving Dean mad. At that rate, neither of them would be coming before their class started. He took matters into his own hands - literally - and grabbed both sides of Castiel’s head before shallowly thrusting forward, not hard, but enough to pass along the message of what he wanted to do.

Cas was completely on board, moaning as he looked up at Dean with hooded eyes. He dropped the hand that was massaging Dean’s balls, bringing it down to his own leaking erection before letting his jaw go slack. With a sturdy grip in Cas’ hair, the professor began fucking his student’s face at a quick speed. Once or twice, Cas gagged, but Dean gave him a few moments to catch his breath before returning to his thrusting. The only sound heard throughout the office were their aborted moans and the gentle slap of Dean’s balls into Castiel’s chin.

Cas jacked his cock harder, feeling his orgasm building low in his belly, and by the sounds his professor was making, he wasn’t far behind either. The reality of what was happening finally hit Cas. He was getting face-fucked by his professor in his own office. He was kneeling there, letting his mouth basically get used.

With these thoughts crossing through his mind, Cas was blindsided when his orgasm barreled through him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he groaned around Dean’s incredibly thick cock, coming all over the carpeted floor.

Cas pulled off of Dean’s erection then, looking up in faux innocence, and panted, “Would you like to come on my face, professor?”

And that’s all it took to bring Dean over the edge as well, fisting his cock as he came all over the young twink’s face. The thick ropes clung to his cheeks, some of the semen landing in his open, panting mouth. And usually, he’d be upset with cum in his hair, but right now he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Both men stayed in their positions, catching their breath as the reality of what just happened washed over them. Normally, this should’ve been incredibly awkward and they should’ve been making promises to keep this between them, but neither of those things happened. Dean just leaned behind himself a grabbed a few tissues before pulling Castiel off the floor. He angled the student’s head, wiping the cum off before murmuring, “You might still want to wash your face, angel.”

The simple gesture along with the sentiment made something swell within Cas, and the only way he knew how to react was to chuckle. Dean chuckled too, leading both men into laughing at the situation. Before long, they had settled and refastened their pants, Castiel’s jeans sporting a decent-sized cum stain.

He started to grumble in complaint before Dean blushed and mumbled, “Maybe next time it won’t be in my office.”

And Cas left to wash his face before going to class, on cloud nine with the knowledge that him and Dean wasn’t just a one-time deal.


End file.
